Struggles
by Mad3line
Summary: The idea. That’s all it was at first. But why do the perfect solutions have terrible fates. Newt knows he needs to get out of the Maze, but how? When the idea comes to him, it seems great at the time but maybe not for others. Pre-Thomas time in the Glade. Follows Newt and his struggles with the perfect solution that could end his life.
1. The Greenie

**A** / **N** : **Hey** **guys** , **this** **is** **a** **story** **following** **Newt** **before** **Thomas** **went** **into** **the** **Maze** **based** **on** **one** **main** **idea** **that** I **think** **you** **all** **should** **know** **or** **at** **least** **guess** **at** **if** **you've** **read** **all** **the** **Maze** **Runner** **books**. 

**Disclaimer** : **I** **am** **not** **James** **Patterson** **as** **you** **could** **probably** **tell** **and** **all** **of** **these** **characters** **and** **the** **plot** **are** **his**. 

**I** **suggest** **you** **read** **all** **the** **books** **before** **reading** **this** **because** **there** **may** **be** **spoilers**. **I** **will** **try** **to** **post** **every** **Sunday** **or** **at** **least** **once** **a** **week**. **And** **remember** :

 **WICKED** **is** **GOOD**. 

**Hope** **you** **enjoy**!

An idea. That's how it started. Formed by the ever growing despair put in him by the maze, the Creators. He knew there was no way out, none. Ever since he came up in this bloody place remembering only one word, Newt, he knew escaping was as hopeless as it was remembering his sister, his family.

As Newt and the Gladers began to work their way into a odd but regular lifestyle, he almost forgot one of his first thoughts, almost. But the idea presented itself again the day they saw Georgie die.

The idea had quickly grown in his mind over the past few months. By then, Newt was a runner, a strong one, but that unfortunately gave him a lot of time to think when running the inner walls.

After getting back from a particularly tough run in section 3, the greenie alarms went off. Already? Newt wondered as he walked to the box. He felt like just yesterday the bloody alarms had sounded for one more Greanbean to show up.

"Hey shank, what's goin' on in that brilliant mind of yours?" Newt looked up and realized Alby had joined him.

Newt flashed a smile and replied with the same sarcastic tone, "Oh, just pondering the klunk of life, ya know?"

Alby was about to reply when a scream cut through the air. Newt sighed, "Great, another bloody screamer," and began to jog over to join the other boys.

As Newt pushed through the crowd of Gladers, Gally and Nick had dropped a makeshift rope with a loop at the end down to the kid. As the Greenbean got up, hands swarmed him, brushing all the dust and dirt off his ragged looking face.

The kid looked 15-16ish with a kind looking, oval face and ears sticking out, reminding Newt of a kiddie story of Jumbo the flying elephant. Suddenly, Newt strained to remember who read this to him, where and when but it depressed him quickly and Newt's thoughts strayed to the idea that had begun to make a home in his mind. Sighing again, Newt hoped it wouldn't resort to that.

Delighted shouts from the Gladers bring Newt out of his daze. The greenie had suddenly burst from the crowd and was sprinting like his life depended on it into the Deadheads. Kids were chanting GO! One screamed, " Run! Run for your shuck life before the grievers get ya!" The kid who Newt recognised as Winston, Keeper of the Slicers burst out laughing.

Alby tapped his shoulder beckoning him to follow and Newt tore after the kid and another wave of cheers erupted from the crowd. He made it to the forest and sped up, determined not to have the Greenie see the graveyard. Newt began to slow down once he heard sniffles and crunches of leaves coming from somewhere left of him. Still jogging at a slow pace, Newt found the owner of the sniffles, leaning against a tree, head hanging in his hands.

Trying to keep a calm expression, Newt crouched down besides the boy. "Hey," he said in a soft voice, "you ok there shank?" The newbie raised his head. Sniffled, then wiped his eyes. He hesitated, then shook his head. "Good that, now I know your bloody human. Remember your name?"

The kid opened his mouth but all that came out was a gurgling sound. His face turned red and he cleared his throat. "Um, Ben." His voice was higher than Newt expected.

"Well Ben, you had me convinced there for a second that you were a runner. Now get up Greenie, we don't want you hidin' on your first day." Then, Newt even surprised himself by saying, "Your old life's over kid, welcome to the Glade. Be bloody friendly to everyone cause those boys are all you got, good that?"

"Yeah-er, yeah." Ben groaned and then got up. Newt turned around and began walking back to the Gladers. Once in sight of them, the boys began yelling.

"Aye look, it's the little screamer," one yelled.

"You gonna run into the maze, I dare ya," another challenged.

"The shank probably klunked his pants three times just from runnin' from Newty." At that comment, Newt turned around ready to get back at whoever yelled that but then Alby walked up and playfully punched him.

"Slim it shank, just bloody playing with ya." Ably teased. Newt punched him back.

"Quit imitating me slinthead." They grinned at that and the boys began to make their way to the box to help pull the supplies out.


	2. The Note

As the Greenie got settled in, Newt found himself thinking more and more about this idea of his. He knew he would eventually go crazy without telling anyone how he truelt felt but that wasn't an option.

After a run in the maze, then a depressing trip to the Map Room in which they drew our the route the Runners took, Newt finally figured out how to keep himself sane with the bloody idea bouncing around in his head.

Deciding to sleep on the outskirts of the forest alone that night, Newt leaned against a tree and took out a crumpled paper he stole from the map room. He grabbed a roughly worn in pencil and began to write.

Newt finished the letter around midnight, according to his watch and sighed, glad he took the pressures of the idea off his shoulders. He read over it one more time, wanting the reader to understand what he'd been feeling. It read:

 _Shanks,_

 _After spending over half a year in this bloody maze, I have finally found the solution that suits my needs. As a runner, I found that the idea of getting out of the maze is a hopeless piece of kluck. I am sad to say that this was the only way out because we've tried every other thing. There is no shucking way out of the buggin' maze! After seeing Minho climb the walls the first day, my mind has been centered around that idea. All of us were slintheads to think that there was ever a way out. After all the Creators throwed at us, do you think they'll let us boogie on out of here? I bloody think not! The Grievers, the walls, the Box, the maps, EVERYTHING! It doesn't bloody matter! Everything is just part of their shucking, jacked up experiment on us. WE'RE JUST BLOODY KIDS! Kids!_

 _I'm sorry, but I can't handle it anymore. I thought I got it out of my mind but the idea is always there, in the back of my jacked head, waiting for the right moment. And now was the time. I don't blame any of you, it's all the Creators! I hate them! I HATE THEM! I HATE ALL THEIR BLOODY GUTS AND SOULS! When you read this, please, show the buggin' Beetle Blades the scrap of paper you hold now, to maybe, barely show just a small piece of what they've done._

 _And with that off my beedin' shoulders I know I'm ready to do what I've planned to do since I saw the bloody walls from the bloody box._

 _I'm ready to jump._

 _I'm ready to accept death._

Newt heaved in a great, emotional sigh and folded the paper up, placing it in his left pocket. He knew the time wasn't right, but it would be, and soon.

Newt curled into a tight ball and glanced up at the sky. The moon was out, causing the usual amount of stars to fade and for some, disappear.

That night, Newt fell asleep not thinking about his crazed plan or his letter, but of his family, his old life, hoping that somewhere out there someone was waiting for him. Crying for him. Wishing for him.

 **A/N:**

 **Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I know it was short but the next one will be longer! Sorry, this is kinda depressing. Please review, I'd love to know how you think the story is, or what I could do to improve it in any way! Thanks, that's it so far! :)**


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